A Child's World
by Beboppin' Betty
Summary: A plague has swept the globe and killed everyone past puberty. Now the children of the Scoobies must learn to survive in a world where demons outnumber humans.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from the show.

* * *

"_When I'm gone, what are you supposed to do?"_

"_Burn your body."_

"_Good girl."_

With one deft swipe of her thumb, Lydia Harris had the lighter burning and brought it to the tip of the torch. She stared at the sheet-wrapped body in the ditch with little emotion, silently bidding her father goodbye. Seconds later she tossed the torch in and the gasoline-soaked sheet was engulfed in flames instantly.

They were alone now.

Her father had been the last one to go, the last one she knew to die, and now Lydia, at only twelve, was the oldest person alive at the compound. She didn't wait for the flames to die out before heading back up the hill -- there was too much to do. There hadn't been enough warning for everyone to prepare properly. Eight weeks ago the plague had claimed enough lives to become newsworthy. Six weeks ago two billion had died and panic had set in. Four weeks ago they'd realized that children weren't dying. Three weeks ago two-thirds of the world's population was dead and the adults still alive were doing everything they could to teach their children how to survive without them.

In Lydia's world, by the four-week mark all those people associated with the Council were sending their kids to the compound, believing in safety in numbers. They had to learn twice as much if they wanted to survive not only an adult-less world, but a world where the population of demons would suddenlyoutnumber humans. Two weeks ago, Lydia's mother and best friend, who was also twelve, had died. It was around that time that they realized that it wasn't just children surviving, but anyone who had not hit puberty. Lydia had not yet started her period, so she was safe, and that had nearly killed her.

At the first of only two un-barricaded doors of the compound, Lydia turned for one last glance of the thick smoke carrying her father to the sky. "'Bye Daddy," she whispered, refusing to let her eyes well up with tears. She'd cried enough; now was time to be strong for the kids.

* * *

"_Baby, listen to me. It's very important, okay?"_

_Gem nodded, extremely aware of the word 'important' these days. Her mother held up a necklace of small silver crosses linked together and clasped it around Gem's neck snugly. "I don't want you to ever take this off. Ever."_

"_Because of the vampires," Gem said softly. _

Gem breathed deeply, trying valiantly to slow her pounding heart. She watched the monitors from her seat on the floor and hugged her knees tightly. There were two of them, going room to room, destroying all the furniture and all of their _things._ They weren't the first to search the house and she knew what they were looking for. They wouldn't find her though, not in the vault. Her mother had promised.

"Get away from her!" Gem almost yelled at the screen the second they'd entered her mother's room, then clapped her hands over her mouth. The vampires hadn't heard, though, and continued their destruction of her home. When they ripped the blanket off of her mother's body, Gem gasped.

Her mother, once so beautiful, was bloated beyond recognition.

Gem forced herself to remember everything her mother had told her before she'd died. "No, not Mommy. Her _body_." Once a person was dead, they weren't anything but a body anymore. She took in another breath to hold back the tears. She'd already been in the vault for three days and her supplies would soon run out. She knew that if there had been no vampires she would have been fearless -- she was her mother's daughter through and through -- but the evil things did exist, and she was just a ten-year-old girl. With a sigh that bordered on a shudder, Gem curled up on her sleeping bag in the corner and hugged her toy dog, Barney, to her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, Gem tried to force herself to sleep.

When she was sleeping, she didn't have to think.

* * *

"_Stake through the heart and sunlight. Holy water burns them." _

_Jason's mother fixed him with an expectant look. "What else?" He thought for a second. "Decapitation; it kills almost everything."_

"_Don't forget fire," she said seriously. "It might not kill them, but it'll hurt. Never be afraid to fight dirty."_

Jason peered over the edge of the window on the east side of his treehouse and did a sweep of the yard below. The area was clear, but he wondered how long that would last. His parents had been dead a week and he'd made sure to bury them on the side of his treehouse that was obscured by branches. The sound of glass shattering jolted him and he reached for the first weapon he could grab before quickly looking at the house next door.

It was the Donnelly brothers from down the street. Their parents had been the first on the block to go. He heard them shouting as they ransacked the house, no doubt looking for food. Jason felt sorry for them but didn't call out to them. It was every man for himself now. His own stockpile was hidden in the large secret compartment that his father had built into the floor of the treehouse, and along with the food were several weapons Jason's mom had supplied him with. Jason heard the boys jump the fence into his yard and tucked himself into the farthest corner of the shelter, his anger growing with each word they said.

"We can't! This is Jason's house." There was uncertainty in young Curtis' voice.

"Maybe he's dead," said the older of the two, Bobby.

"But he's only eleven! What if he's not?"

"Then we'll make him share."

And there was the smash of a rock going through the back window. Jason seethed and longed to go out there and show those boys just what he thought of them. Then the reality of the situation hit him fast and hard: the Donnellys were probably starving, and if they didn't die of that then some vampire would probably make a meal of them. Suddenly he realized that one day soon he could be just like those boys, starving and willing to do anything for a scrap of food. And he couldn't stay in his treehouse forever -- what was going to happen to him when he had to leave?

Jason tightened his grip on the makeshift axe his dad had made just days before he'd died and, for the very first time since the beginning of this hell, cried.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Lydia--" Her father was at death's door. He had mere hours left. "Lyd, I need you to realize something. They're all going to be looking to you for leadership, for protection. They might be children of Slayers and witches and everything else, but when it comes right down to it, you're the oldest and they're just scared kids."_

"_So am I, Daddy."_

Someone was shaking her arm to wake her. "Lyd! Something tripped the wards!"

Lydia blinked and attempted to grasp what nine-year-old Marco Napoli was telling her. "What?" She asked groggily, rubbing her eyes. Sleep had become something of a rarity lately. After four weeks of confinement in the compound, the kids were getting testy and problems constantly arose. Problems which everyone assumed she could fix.

"Something tripped the wards," he said again more slowly. Lydia frowned as her mind caught up with what he had said. "Not an animal?"

"No."

No, if it had been an animal he wouldn't have bothered to wake her. She was on her feet in an instant and leading him towards the cafeteria-cum-meeting room. "What then? Do we know?"

"Not yet. Tommy and Andie are on the roof checking it out." Once upon a time, the seriousness of that statement coming from little Marco would have made her laugh. These days, everyone had seemed to age ten years overnight.

She changed her course to the roof access. Their footsteps echoed in the cavernous corridor and reminded Lydia of a military march. _That's kind of true, _she thought dispassionately. _We are an army and I'm their General. _The hall was nearly black because the ground-floor windows had been boarded up, so she couldn't tell what the day was like. It was only noon, though, so unless it was very overcast, the interloper couldn't have been a vampire. Unfortunately, there were many worse things out there than a bloodsucker.

They emerged on the roof to find it was an brilliantly sunny day, unusual for the time of year in England. Tommy Forth and Andie Wells, the eldest next to her and her seconds-in-command, were stationed at opposite ends of the roof scanning the grounds with binoculars.

"Anything?"

"Nothing," replied Andie and Tommy almost simultaneously. Then Tommy stopped. "Wait -- there's something coming up the drive." He passed his binoculars off to Lydia, whose stomach was churning. This was it; this was the real deal. No more playing soldiers.

"What is that?" It looked kind of like a dog, but different and definitely demonic. The thing was running around in a zig-zag and snuffling at the ground, then it locked onto some smell and made a direct beeline to the front door. Lydia dropped the binoculars and watched the thing approach. "Marco," she said suddenly. "Go get Lucy." She knew that her unspoken orders would also be understood, and Marco was off like a shot to collect his younger sister. Andie leaned over the edge slightly to get a better look. "Is it like a demon dog?"

"Maybe it's looking for food," suggested Tommy. Lydia took a breath to still her jumping nerves. "Yeah, kid-shaped food." They continued to watch the dog-thing circle the perimeter of the building, and just as it rounded the side to reach the front again, Marco appeared with Lucy, who held a crossbow in her arms. She was only seven, but somehow Lucy had the drive and determination to practise with the thing day after day and had become an exceptional shot.

"Lyd, the thing's leaving."

Lydia turned sharply to see the dog trotting back down the lane. "Lucy, I need you to shoot it." The little girl's eyes were huge and she looked hesitant, but moved to the edge of the building to set up her shot.

"I know you can do it, Luce," Lydia encouraged, not wanting to lose the chance. When she saw Lucy's lip quiver, she felt terrible for asking the girl to do something like this, but also felt sort of proud when Lucy bit her lip and apparently steeled herself. She bent over the bow, lined herself up, and squeezed the trigger with her tiny finger. Seconds later the dog jerked and tumbled to the ground with a guttural yelp. The bow dropped from Lucy's hands and she started crying. Lydia knelt down to look the girl in the eyes. "Lucy, I'm so sorry that you had to do that."

Marco led his sister back down the stairs, leaving Lydia alone with Tommy and Andie. "It wasn't hurting anything," Andie said coldly, angry at what had just happened. Lydia frowned at the girl. "I know it wasn't, but what if it had found us? Or what if it was going back to tell something else that we're here?" Tommy, torn between the two points of view, spoke up. "But what if it wasn't?"

"Would you want to take that chance?"

Tommy sighed. "Well, if it _was _going to let someone know that we're here and doesn't show up, they're going to come looking for it."

Andie glared and kicked the wall. "I hate this! Why did they have to die?"

"I don't know," Lydia said, resigned. "But they did, and now we're the grownups."

* * *

"_Mommy, what's going to happen to me?"_

"_You're going to survive."_

"_But what if I don't know how?"_

"_It's in your blood, baby."_

The place was deserted, she was sure of it. The whole street was suspiciously quiet; in the hours she'd been watching from her hiding spot, not a soul had gone by. That was very strange considering the whole of LA was chaos: riots in the streets, looting and pointless destruction, bodies of demon and child alike in the streets where they'd dropped. It had been six weeks and Gem was used to all the different horrors she witnessed daily. She'd never stayed in one place too long and because of the things her mother had taught her _before, _she had yet to go more than a day without eating.

She could steal anything that wasn't nailed down and never hesitated to use those skills, even if it meant taking from other kids. Problem was, the other kids weren't having the best time finding food anymore and that had led her to expand her search. In the beginning she'd gone into every grocery store and restaurant she could find, but she wasn't the only one to think that way and most places were picked clean by now.

Then she'd found this tiny place tucked into a seedy neighbourhood that the city had apparently forgotten. She was too smart to just stroll in -- anything could be behind those dark little windows. She'd seen a couple of places that were traps: the vampires knew the kids would be hungry and set up shop wherever there was food. But nothing had moved for hours, and she knew she had to make her move eventually, so she waited until well past sundown to see if any vampires would come out and when none had for two hours, she stuck to the shadows and found her way in through a window with a weak lock.

The window opened directly into the kitchen, and after climbing in as quietly as she could, Gem looked around for any doors and found two. Peeking out of both, she found one led out to the restaurant itself, and the other to be a pantry. The place was as dead and quiet as a tomb but she kept her guard up as she rifled through the pantry, delighted to find packages of pasta and other dry materials that could be salvaged. She packed her bag with whatever she could while stuffing very stale cookies into her mouth.

"Who's in there?" Demanded a voice that sounded male and gravelly. Gem froze only for an instant before bolting out of the pantry and past a large figure whose features she couldn't make out in the dark. "Hey!" He called angrily as Gem ran into the restaurant, intent on making her escape through the front door. "Stop!" The voice shouted again, and Gem heard him begin to chase her into the street.

She was fast, but the bag weighted her down and she was not willing to sacrifice that much food until absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, she didn't have 'absolutely necessary' defined and a strong hand grabbed her shoulder. "Let me go!" She shrieked, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

"Miss, please-"

She didn't hear him as she could only see the very demonic face staring down at her, a face that was attached to six feet of body. As her fear and anger grew, Gem began to feel very strange. "Let. Me. GO!" And just as she shouted the last word, an enormous bolt of blue-white lightning struck down from the sky and hit Gem squarely in the chest, blowing her and the demon apart. She didn't know how long it lasted, only that it didn't hurt, and before long the white light blinding her was replaced by the black blanket of unconsciousness.

When she opened her eyes again she found herself looking directly at a spotty white ceiling. Then she realized that she was in a bed and jerked upward to look around. The first thing she saw was the demon who'd chased her sitting comfortably in a chair next to the bed. He was large with little red spikes all over his face and very white hair. "How are you feeling?" He asked, sounding guarded but genuinely concerned. Gem said nothing, instead throwing the covers off and moving to jump off the bed. The demon reached out. "Please, lie back down. You could be seriously injured."

"I'm fine," she replied cautiously, scooting into the farthest corner of the bed away from the demon. She still had her eyebrows and aside from some holes in her clothes was completely unburned. Her mind was racing and her whole body felt... electrified, just like her mother used to explain the feeling to Gem. "What are you going to do to me?" She asked, her voice strong with only a tiny tremor. The demon chuckled. "Well, feed you, if you'll let me. You cleaned out my pantry so I figured you must be hungry. I'm not going to hurt you," he promised, gravely serious. She said nothing and he nodded. "I understand. I'll be in the kitchen just down the hall with some soup and tea. If you want some, you're welcome to join me. If not, the door's just at the end of the hall." Then, chair creaking, he got up and left the room, leaving Gem alone with her thoughts.

She'd never been struck by lightning before; had never so much as given anyone a shock. Her mom figured that Gem had been lucky enough not to inherit the unusual abilities Gwen had been cursed with, but now Gem didn't know what to think.

_This is not the place to do it, _her inner voice warned her, and Gem shook her head at her stupidity. The demon had given her an out -- why was she still sitting here? Her bag was on the floor by the bed and she scooped it up on her way out the door. She was feet from the exit of what apparently was a little apartment above the restaurant when the smell of the soup stopped her. Going against every instinct and ounce of better judgement she possessed, Gem turned around and found the little kitchen. The demon was at the table with a book and a cup of tea, and there was a steaming bowl of soup waiting for her at an empty spot.

She hadn't had hot food in ages. Silently she slipped into the seat and took up the waiting spoon. "Have you got a name?" Asked the demon suddenly, not looking away from his book.

"Yes."

The demon chuckled at the response. "My name's Nathaniel. You can call me Nat." Gem said nothing and they lapsed back into a silence that was almost comfortable. Nat went back to his book and she finished off two bowls of the soup. "What happened out there was the most extraordinary thing I've ever seen," her host said as she stood to leave. "You're sure you're alright?" She wasn't hurt but she certainly wasn't _alright_. "Thanks for the soup," she replied and collected her bag. "You should get a better lock for your window."

"Please, stay the night," Nat invited suddenly. "I'd feel much better if I could see for myself that there are no side effects from that lightning strike." Gem searched his eyes for a hint of a lie. "Why are you being nice to me?" She asked suspiciously. Nat frowned at the question, or perhaps at the tone in which she'd asked, and sighed. "Not all demons are evil, you know." She didn't know why, but she believed him -- just not enough to stay over. Then he shrugged. "And, truth be told, it's a bit lonely here by myself."

Lonely, she got, but she still trusted her gut more than the kind words of a stranger. After a second's hesitation, she decided that after a night to think over things she might visit this Nat the next day. Maybe. "My name's Gem," she said, unsmiling, and left the demon alone with his book and his thoughts.

* * *

"_Mom, what's your name?"_

"_You know what-"_

"_No, your **full **name."_

_His mother looked at him like she was confused by the question, then her light blue eyes lit up like she suddenly understood. "Katherine Helen Lockley Beck. Helen after my mother and Lockley is my maiden name." _

"_It suits you," Jason decided. Kate smiled at her son. "Names are funny -- people say that someone's name fits their personality, but really the person gives the personality to their name."_

"Get out of here. This stuff is ours."

Jason had about three inches and two years on the kid staring him down over a few cans of soup, and might have laughed in his face if not for the handful of kids backing him up. They were all skinny and dirty and had something almost feral in their eyes. A couple of them were holding crude (but effective) weapons of lengths of pipe or wooden bats. It was mainly because of those that he didn't just push his way through the group. Instead, he shot the younger boy his most contemptuous look.

"Unless your name is Campbell, I don't see how that's possible."

The kid didn't get it and Jason frowned slightly. He figured that had been pretty clever and might have at least gotten him a smirk. "My name ain't _Campbell,_" the kid sneered. "It's Calvin." Jason gave the group a once-over and decided he might be able to take them. He was more loaded down with weapons than all of them combined. "Well, _Calvin_, you and your little friends are in my way." But before he could take a step forward towards the stockpile of soup, Calvin's group formed a line in his path, moving into formation like little soldiers.

"Get lost before we make you," Calvin warned. "This is our turf."

Jason eyed them in a different light. Claiming of turf often meant the claimer was part of a gang -- he'd seen countless movies that depicted it, but even more relevant was the fact that kids had been forming gangs all over the place. He'd managed to stick it out on his own in the city for three months, but the gangs were beginning to make things more difficult. Twice he'd already witnessed brawls between gangs over food or shelter. Boston had always been a tough city, but now that genuine survival was on the line it was getting downright vicious. He wanted no part of gang life-- they believed that there was safety in numbers, he thought they were easier targets.

Still, he wasn't afraid of them and he sure as hell wasn't about to let this Calvin kid intimidate him. Catching Calvin's eye, he held the kid's furious gaze. "Look, I don't care whose turf this is. I'm taking one of those cans and anyone who wants to stop me can just go ahead and try."

He was a little surprised when the group actually did try to stop him. He fought his way through them -- they were all young and small, but determined and nasty -- and only gained the upper hand when he pulled out the knife from his pocket. It startled them enough for him to get in a wicked punch to Calvin's jaw and send the kid tumbling to the floor. "Stop!" He said furiously, and with their leader on the floor with a bloody mouth, they listened. "I don't want to hurt anyone and I don't want to take all this food. I just want one or two cans and I'll be out of here." In the end they agreed, however begrudgingly. He was on his way out of the tiny convenience store when Calvin shouted him a warning. "If you ever show your face around here again we'll kill you!"

Jason believed him, even if he _had _beaten the whole group. He glanced around the dark street before ducking into the shadows to head to his current 'home' and crack open his first meal in two days. He was half a block away from the store when he heard the voices -- the _adult _voices. Instinctively he dived behind an abandoned car and watched as two men who had to be in their twenties approached the store that Jason knew those kids still occupied. They were vampires, this he knew for certain, and they were about to grab dinner.

What was he supposed to do?

The answer came almost before the question had run through his mind. He knew how to kill vampires and he knew he couldn't let those kids die. The second the vamps passed through the doorway, Jason darted out from his hiding spot and raced back to the store, pulling out his stake and cross along the way.

There were screams and as he hit the open doorway saw the gang scattering, though not all got away. One of the vamps had two writhing kids in his iron grasp, the other had Calvin backed into a corner. Not pausing long enough for his fear to take hold, Jason dived into the fray, hoping to catch them off-guard. He had his stake out and rushed the vamp holding the two kids. With his hands full, Jason might have a chance.

He was just as astonished as the vampire was when the piece of wood found its way into the thing's heart. He dropped his prey and started turning into dust, which was something Jason had not expected, and with one startled cry: "What?" crumbled into nothing. The other, alerted by the sound, turned and his jaw dropped before his face suddenly shifted into a wrinkled, gold-eyed, fanged mess. "You little-"

"Wood!" Jason shouted. "Wood in their hearts! Cut their heads off! Fire! All that kills them!" The two kids and Calvin just stared, frozen, as Jason darted back and forth to elude the vampire's grasp. "Come on, guys! Don't wuss out now!" He added, almost growling with exasperation and adrenaline and terror. He managed to dodge the vamp by running between the shelves, but after a few minutes the thing caught him by the back of his jacket and hauled him into the air. Jason wasn't about to go down without a fight, however, and sliced up the thing's arm with his knife. It backhanded him across the face and while Jason saw stars and his vision blackened around the edges, he did not back down.

The vampire sneered at him. "You're gonna pay for killing Joey, you little shit." Jason sneered right back and pressed his cross onto the vampire's face. Caught off-guard like his pal Joey, the vampire howled and dropped Jason, just in time for Calvin to push one of the metal shelves into the vampire, sending it to the ground. And just as quickly, one of the two other kids plunged a broken-off piece of their wooden bat into its heart.

The four of them stared at the spot that was now only occupied by dust and then at each other. Jason's heart was beating wildly and adrenaline was racing through his veins. Calvin's mouth opened and closed soundlessly a couple of times before he got words out. "That was... that was.."

"Awesome!" Jason breathed. "Did you see the way they just turned into dust? I didn't know they would do that."

"You know what they are?" Asked the girl who'd staked the second vampire. Jason nodded. "Vampires." Calvin toed the dust with a ratty shoe. "How'd you know how to kill them?"

"My mom told me," Jason said, coming down from the natural high of the adrenaline and realizing what he'd just done: he'd killed something, he'd actually killed a vampire. "Look, I'll tell you what she told me. We can't let them win." He helped them collect the rest of the soup cans and agreed to follow them back to their camp to explain to everyone. All at once, he felt like a different person; a very grown up person that others looked to for guidance. He didn't know how to feel about that.

"Hey," Calvin said suddenly. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Lock." Jason said, suddenly feeling as if the last layer of youthful innocence he possessed had been stripped away. "You can call me Lock."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I know it's been ages since I've updated but my interest was recently renewed in this story. I don't know if anyone will even read (especially with HP7 just being released -- I read it; best in the series!), but I had fun writing! Also, I know the Jason part is quite long, but I got caught up in his story

* * *

_"But how will we know what to do after the food runs out or if-"_

_"Books, honey. When I was your age, they were my best friends -- next to your dad, I mean."_

The library was silent and dark and hadn't really been used since before her father had died, which was something Lydia considered illogical in hindsight. So when she pushed open the doors three days after she'd had Lucy kill the demon dog, she found a fine layer of dust coating everything in the huge portion of the building that the Council Library occupied. It took up an entire wing, in fact, and was filled to the brim with everything from ancient tomes to rows of computers with access to the expansive database that her mother had designed to textbooks for the regular school classes.

She propped open the doors to air the place out and paused for a moment to get her bearings. Lydia loved this library and possessed a passion for books that she'd inherited directly from her mother and shared enthusiastically with her Grandpa G. She'd often spent her days lost in the stacks blissfully ignoring and being ignored by the other kids, both older and younger. That was what was so difficult about her position in the post-plague world. She was a leader yet she hated having so much attention focused on her; she was naturally a behind-the-throne type person, and while she was completely capable of running an entire little colony, she'd have given anything to do it out of the spotlight. Or, better yet, not at all. Lydia did not like being responsible for anyone other than herself, let alone a whole crowd of kids dependant on her for their survival. It was that very thought that had brought on an epiphany of sorts, and was the reason she was opening the library.

She'd asked Tommy and Andie to round everyone up and bring them to the little meeting she'd planned. While she waited, she wandered around the familiar stacks, picked a few books off the shelves, and paused at the wall of photos. The library had been the hub of activity _before _and the Wall had served the same purpose a mantle would in a family home. There were dozens of photos of the Slayers who'd passed through the Academy over the years, shots of friends and the annual picnic, but Lydia's favourite were two in the centre: one of her parents, Grandpa and Aunt in their high school library and a large photo of her entire family. Her Grandpa, parents, aunts and uncles and cousins all smiled down at her and only reinforced her determination to carry this plan through.

The kids began filing in and Lydia was happy to see that the sour expressions that everyone had lately been wearing were replaced with anything but as they wandered into the library. She didn't hesitate to lay it out there. "We can't keep living like this because what we've been doing hasn't really been living. We're hiding and it feels like we're just waiting to die or something." Pleased that she'd caught their attention, she outlined her plan to turn them into a community instead of a refugee camp. They'd grow their own food, set up barrels on the roof to catch rainwater, start training in defense; everything they'd need to survive and do it contently. She didn't tell them that she felt that they were living in a dictatorship -- years of living with warriors had taught her that that would be a bad strategy, even if most of them wouldn't understand the concept. Some would and that would be enough. "So that's my idea, what do you think?"

"I like it," Tommy said immediately. Andie, on the other hand, frowned. "That sounds like a lot of work. How are we going to do it all?"

"Everyone will have to work hard, but it's better than what we're doing now. What do you guys think?"

"How are we going to know how to do all those things?" A boy of about eight asked from the back. Lydia held up the books she'd pulled from the shelves. "Books, and the computers. We have the power from the solar panels." When Lydia was very young solar power had exploded in the world after oil shortages and hydro power price inflation. The group absorbed what she said for a moment and seemed to accept her idea. She wasn't surprised -- they usually did what she said, regardless of the idea.

Suddenly a girl named Aurora spoke up. "We've been practicing a lot-" She didn't clarify who or what, and she didn't need to. Aurora and her twin sister Selene were the daughters of the leader of a coven of witches who'd worked closely with the Council and had been trained to take over since their birth. They knew more magic at age nine than most would hope to know in their lives. "And we could help with that, like making the gardens grow faster and stuff."

Andie crossed her arms defensively "What if some demon or vampire sees us and tries to attack?"

"Then we'll deal with it like last time," Lydia snapped. "Either we starve to death in here or we actually try to survive. Don't forget that we have an entire armory in this place -- a room full of weapons," she explained at the blank looks she received. "We'll be okay if we try." When everyone started to agree, Lydia felt hopeful for the first time in months. "So why don't we all come up with some ideas to make this work?" As the kids started throwing around ideas, Lydia figured this was what her Aunt Buffy must have felt like back when all the Slayers were first activated. She couldn't help but wonder briefly if she was leading her own troops into a losing battle. _But at least we're going to fight_, she thought.

* * *

"Practise makes perfect, baby. Remember that."

Gem watched the rat scurry around the alley looking for something to nibble on. She related to the rodent in that respect but didn't bother to dwell on it. Her mind was elsewhere -- specifically on the lightning strike a few days before. She still felt electrified, sort of, but hadn't been able to produce any power of her own. Of course, she didn't exactly know _how _to do it, or even if she could, but she'd spent the best part of two days trying to bring electric-powered things to life with no success. Then she'd remembered how her mom had said that for most of her life she'd been unable to touch anyone's skin without electrocuting them and it had given Gem an idea. She didn't want to hurt any other kids and she wasn't stupid enough to go and touch a demon, but rats were plentiful and she didn't have any qualms of possibly killing one.

So she'd hunkered down in an alleyway and waited for one to get close enough. "Here ratty, ratty, ratty," she muttered in a sing-song voice. The rat wasn't scared off by her presence and it only took a few minutes for the thing to approach her. However, when she reached out to touch it, the rat ran in the other direction. Scowling, she waited again, this time for ten minutes, for the rat to get near and when it did she darted after it. "Come _here!_" She hissed as her frustration bubbled and dove after it but the rat was too quick and scurried just out of her reach. "Stupid rat!" She yelled and heaved an old pop can after it but forgot all about the rodentthe instant the can left her hand, however, because at that moment little bolts of blue traveled between her fingers.

* * *

The windows in Nat's little restaurant were dark, as they had been during Gem's first visit a few days before, but this time she was more confident that there were no vampires waiting inside for a kid-shaped snack. He hadn't changed the lock on the window, but he had re-latched it, and she did the same after she'd climbed in. It had taken a lot of thinking to arrive at the decision to return to the demon's house, but demon or not, he'd lived in the world a lot longer than she and would possibly have some answers for her. She was up the stairs quickly and silently only to find the place empty. There were dishes in the sink so she figured he'd be back and took the chance to search the place. He had a small television and computer like every other household, a few photos and the most extensive book collection she'd seen outside a library. When she finally heard Nat coming up the stairs, she remained where she was in the easy chair with the book open on her lap. She didn't have to see his face to sense his surprise when he finally noticed her presence. "You came back," he said. "You didn't get a better lock," she countered and decided that once you got past the little red spikes, he had a kind face. "What are you?" Nat sat himself on the couch. "I'm a Bracken demon. You like to read?" He motioned to the book in her lap, which was far too advanced for Gem's age but she was making a go of it. "I like learning new things," she said with a shrug.

"I bet you miss school," Nat deducted. "School's the last thing on the minds of most kids these days."

"Yeah, well, the more you know the longer you survive."

"I couldn't agree more," he murmured. "Tell me, why did you come back?"

Gem put the book aside to stare down at her hands. "Do you have any powers?" She wasn't quite sure yet just how much she would divulge. Nat leaned back into the couch and regarded her thoughtfully. "I can't fly or anything if that's what you're asking, but I have some abilities, yes." She didn't bother asking what they were as she was too preoccupied with her own burgeoning power. "Have you always had them or did they just appear?" If Nat had any indication of where the conversation was heading he didn't let on. "Always had them. Why?" Gem was silent for a moment and took the time to search his eyes -- the eyes, she'd once heard, were the windows to the soul. Finally she sighed and got to her feet to pace and angle herself closer to the exits (just in case). "My mom was electric," she said quickly, as if ripping off a band-aid. "And I never was, until the lightning hit me." She explained briefly what had happened in the alleyway and waited anxiously to hear what Nat would say. "What were you feeling when you tried to catch that rat?" he asked after a rather long minute. "Angry, frustrated, scared?"

Gem paused her pacing and thought back to the alleyway. She hadn't been scared, but angry and frustrated pretty much nailed the emotions that had been rolling through her like waves. Nat nodded in apparent understanding. "Emotions are almost always connected to power," he said sagely. "I expect that whatever powers your mother had were passed onto you and have lain dormant until that lightning strike activated them." Gem stared at him and suddenly felt like a little girl again. "You talk so…so," she searched for the word, and Nat chuckled. "Eloquently?" Gem shrugged, not about to admit she didn't know what _eloquently _meant. "Intelligently."

"You're no slouch in the verbal department yourself."

"How do you know?" She asked, jumping back to Nat's explanation about her powers laying dormant, and was pleased when he followed her thought process easily. "I've got a lot of years under my belt and you tend to pick a few things up over time. And I read an awful lot. Like you said, the more you know the longer you survive." He leaned forward, interest gleaming in his eyes. "The question before us is what you want to do about this power of yours." Gem felt a prick of discomfort at the question: she'd already told this demon much more than she should have, and in her opinion knowledge was power. Still, she reasoned, Nat seemed incredibly knowledgeable and willing to share. Maybe the smart thing to do here would be to get Nat's help and expertise while keeping an eye open for something that she could use for leverage if things got sticky. She crossed her arms almost defiantly and raised her chin a notch. "I want to use it." Nat nodded as if he hadn't expected her to say anything else but that. "Well then, let's get started."

* * *

"Mom…he said that only the strong survive."

"That's not true. Only the **smart **survive. Your brains'll get you a lot farther than your fists."

"Lock! Lock, Moira's hurt bad!" Jason whirled around at the panic in Calvin's voice and ran over to where the nine-year-old girl lay on the dirty ground. Even in only the dim light cast by a nearby streetlight Jason could see that her shirt was soaked with blood. Calvin and Darryl looked terrified; Jason valiantly fought the panic bubbling in his throat. "Okay," he said. "Okay, calm down. Panic isn't going to save her." He lifted Moira's shirt to see what had to be a foot-long gash bisecting her chest. "Shit," he breathed, then shared a long hard look with Calvin. "We can't fix this, we need a doctor."

"There are no doctors!" Darryl cried hysterically.

"Yes there are," Jason got to his feet, ordered the boys to put lots of pressure on Moira's wound, and turned and ran as fast as he could. He darted in and out of shadows and alleys to arrive at a dirty black door. He hesitated for only a second -- he'd heard through the grapevine that the demon who lived here could fix anything, but a demon was a demon -- before pounding on the door. It opened a fraction and Jason caught a glimpse of shockingly white eyes. "Please," he implored. "My friend's hurt bad. Her chest-" he held up his bloody hands for inspection and the demon allowed him entry. They exchanged no names and Jason didn't spend to much time looking around the place. The demon didn't waste time on pleasantries either. "What happened to her?" It demanded, already stuffing bandages into a leather bag. "It's a gash, from here to here," he demonstrated on his own chest. "A claw, I don't know what kind." The doctor, who was somewhat reptilian, immediately turned to a cabinet full of strange herbs and loaded a few into the case. "Show me," it instructed, and Jason wasted no time, taking off at a dead run.

Calvin and Darryl hadn't moved their hands from Moira's chest since Jason had left, and when the doctor shooed them aside they reluctantly let up on the pressure. "Good job," the doctor said distractedly, tearing open Moira's shirt. Cal and Darryl looked away, either for modesty's sake or from the horrific sight of the wound, but Jason took the time to watch the doctor's competent hands at work and to study the demon. It was dressed like a regular person in dark pants and fitted sweater. Jason deduced from the pink of the shirt and delicate necklace that this demon was female. "This will do for now," she said, and Jason saw Moira's wound was heavily bandaged. "We must get her back to my place." When she started to pick their friend up, all three boys stepped forward menacingly. "I will not hurt her," the doctor said in exasperation. "She doesn't have much time." Jason turned to the guys and pulled them away from the doctor and Moira. "I'll go with her. You go back and get a few more guys." He told them where the place was and if he didn't come out in thirty minutes, they were to come in fighting.

The doctor laid Moira on the table and scurried around the room for supplies. "What is that stuff?" Jason asked of a pungent balm she applied to his friend's wound. The doctor spared him a look. "It is a healing salve. Antibiotics and blood transfusions are hard to come by these days. And in any case are less effective." Jason took a few moments to go outside to assure Calvin and the others that the doctor seemed on the level before returning to Moira's side. When he came back in she was breathing deeply and her chest was wrapped in strips of cloth that smelled like the balm. The doctor was sipping from a cup and offered him what turned out to be tea.

"What is your name?"

"What's yours?" he countered, and she smiled ruefully. "My name is Alizeh. That girl is lucky to have a friend like you. If you had waited much longer she would have died." Jason shrugged and didn't try to explain the loyalty he felt to any surviving humans. He was reluctant to admit even to himself that he cared about Moira and the others as more than fellow humans -- he'd been with Calvin's group for close to two months and each day found a new reason not to leave. Alizeh pressed on. "How did she come by such a horrible wound?"

"I told you-"

She waved a hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, you told me it was a demon. I understand that most of you children tend to avoid such encounters." Jason pursed his lips and took a good look at Moira, whose colour was already returning, and decided he owed Alizeh at least a bit of the story. "We were hunting vamps, stumbled over the demon going through a dumpster."

"Hunting? You are either very brave or very stupid…but that is your decision."

Jason appreciated that answer and drifted into thought for a few moments. "Where can I get some of that healing stuff?"

"It must be made. It will take several hours for her to heal."

"I'm not leaving," Jason said at once. Alizeh shrugged. "Very well. I have a cot in the back, you may share it if you wish." He did wish to be there in case Moira woke up…or in case the doctor suddenly decided it would behoove her to harvest Moira's organs for those healing balms. After Moira was tucked into the cot and Alizeh was about to head up a narrow staircase, Jason stopped her. "I don't have any money."

"There is more than one type of currency, boy. When the time is right I will call in my favour."

* * *

"Lock?"

Jason woke to the sound of Moira's small, unsure voice. The room was still dark but he felt rested so assumed it was nearing dawn. Moira was up on her elbows looking down at her thickly bandaged chest. "What happened?" Jason filled her in quickly and watched as she peeled back one or two of the strips to reveal an angry pink line that would eventually scar. "Whoa," Jason said. "Last night I could practically see your ribs."

"We should get out of here, shouldn't we?"

Jason held out his jacket for Moira to wear and they quietly escaped into the night that was quickly turning to day. But no matter the time they had to be careful -- at night it was the demons and vamps to worry about, in the day it was other kids and the many gangs. This time, however, something completely unexpected tripped them up: as they rounded the corner a black limousine pulled up alongside them and the back window rolled down. Jason hadn't seen a car in motion in months but wasn't about to let his surprise slow him down. "Run!" He said, but as he and Moira went to bolt, their path was blocked by a very large demon that Jason knew they'd have no chance against. Moira did an abrupt about-face and darted in the other direction. The large demon let her go and she looked back to catch Jason's nod of approval to keep running. "Do you have a few minutes?" A voice asked from within the car. "Do I have a choice?" Jason retorted, and was answered by the door opening in silent invitation for them to get in. He slid into the car and the door shut firmly behind them. The owner of the voice looked remarkably human, save for some minor demonic indicators. He was wearing an expensive suit and everything about him screamed gangster. He smiled in a way that made Jason feel even more uneasy. "I've been watching you for some time, Mr. Lock."

"Why?"

"Because I like to know what goes on in my city."

"_Your _city?"

"That's right. I plan to restore order to Boston."

"What does that have to do with me?" Jason asked guardedly. "And who are you?"

"My name's Leo and I'd like to recruit you, as it were. I need men on the streets to liaise with the humans, and you're the most intelligent and resourceful I've come across so far. Your crew trusts you enough to hunt vampires, they'll trust you to lead them in the direction that serves their best interests."

"What's in it for me?" Jason wasn't seriously considering this ludicrous offer but he was interested in what the guy had. Leo smirked a little. "The mark of a true survivor. What's in it for you? Food, shelter, stability, power."

"What makes you think I'd even consider this?"

"You strike me as rather fearless, Mr. Lock." Jason met Leo's probing look with a challenging one. "What have I got to lose? I think I'm done here."

"We're not all evil, and even if we were…have you ever heard the saying 'better the devil you know'?" Jason paused with one foot out the door to look back. He had never heard the saying before but he had to admit it made a bit of sense. Leo took his hesitation for granted and pulled a card out of his pocket. "The offer's good for twenty-four hours. You can find me there." Jason said nothing but took the card with the address and disappeared into the shadows as quickly as he could.

Back at camp he got an even bigger surprise: mutiny. "What's going on?" he asked when he noticed that none of the group would meet his eyes and Moira had separated herself from them except to shoot glares their way. Calvin came forward reluctantly. "Nobody wants to hunt anymore after what happened." Jason wasn't surprised or particularly concerned. "Whatever, it's your choice." But apparently that wasn't all because Calvin suddenly looked guilty and lowered his voice so only Jason could hear. "Everyone's afraid that you'll get followed back here by some vampires or something. _I _don't think you will, but they all out-voted me." Jason narrowed his dark eyes; he had a feeling he knew what Calvin was trying to avoid saying, but he wanted to hear it out loud. "What are you saying?" He demanded, causing Calvin to look down at his feet and Moira to jump to hers. "They're kicking you out," she said indignantly. Jason was silent for a minute, taking the time to look into the faces of every member of the group, before addressing them coldly. "You can really only trust yourself."

When he'd collected his things and left the house they'd been staying in without a word to anyone, he was greatly surprised to see Moira on the porch with her own bag. "What are you doing?" he demanded somewhat angrily; she shouldered her bag and stood next to him. "I'm going with you."

"Why?"

"Because I trust you more than them." She said simply and then asked what the plan was. Jason thought about what he'd said to the others inside, about what Moira had just told him, and what Leo had proposed in the limo. He fingered the card in his pocket and made the decision that would change his life. "We're going here," he said and held up the card. Moira looked nonplussed. "What's there?"

"The devil I know."


End file.
